


World Violation

by stjaninaro



Category: Depeche Mode
Genre: All kinds of messed up, M/M, Multi, Object Insertion, Very rough sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:51:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjaninaro/pseuds/stjaninaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On-stage tensions spill over after a show and Alan loses control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World Violation

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LiveJournal in October 2010.  
> Possibly the dirtiest thing I ever wrote ;)

***  
  
Alan was sweating as the lustful gaze pinned him down. On stage, with thousands of eyes watching him. His hands were shaking as he tried to play, Dave stalking him across the stage only to twirl away and shake his arse at him, teasing him, daring him to come and take him right there.   
  
Just as he had done for the past decade. Alan wasn’t quite sure why that show was any different. What it was about it that made him finally snap. Dave’s trousers were no tighter than they had been on previous tours, nowhere near as provocative as the white jeans on the Masses tour. Nor was his dancing much different.  
  
But when Martin stepped forward to do his solo, Alan found himself inexplicably yanking Dave behind the podium that his synth was set up on. It was just about wide enough to block them from the crowds view.   
  
Dave didn’t even try to get away, just watched Alan with dark, hooded eyes, as Alan kept a firm hand on his shoulder. Without preamble, his fingers scrabbled at the buttons of his leather trousers, making his intentions blindingly obvious.  
  
Suddenly Dave lunged into action, wrapping his arms around Alan’s knees and bringing him crashing to the floor, flat out on his back. He attacked his lips, shoving his tongue into Alan’s hot, wet mouth as his hand dove down the front of his trousers, squeezing Alan’s cock almost painfully hard.  
  
Alan gasped, throwing his head back. He caught sight of Fletch's shocked face watching them from the opposite side of the stage. Grabbing Dave’s hair hard, he shoved his face into his by then unclad crotch, getting even harder knowing they were being watched.  
  
Unaware of their audience (Fletch having been joined by Daryl and Franksy), Dave nuzzled deeper into Alan’s crotch, sucking his balls into his mouth and twirling his tongue over them roughly. Alan pushed him down harder, wrapping his free hand around his own cock as Dave managed to pull back just enough to shove his tongue deep into Alan’s hidden entrance.  
  
Alan gasped, and then groaned, desperately fisting his solid, leaking length. Sensing he was nearing his peak, Dave replaced his tongue with a sweat-lubed finger and leant up to suck Alan’s erection right into the back of his throat.  
  
Dave lifted his head as he heard Martin beginning his second and final song. He took Alan deep again, scraping his teeth along his sensitive member, whilst he added a second finger to Alan’s arse, stretching him wide.   
  
Alan writhed beneath him, sweat dripping from his skin. Dave pressed another finger inside, brushing against his prostate. Alan arched up, coming spectacularly, hot and hard into Dave’s waiting mouth.  
  
Dave swallowed eagerly, dipping his tongue into Alan’s slit to coax out more of the sticky fluid. His fingers still moving freely inside Alan, stretching him wide open.  
  
Alan slumped to the floor, utterly boneless. Moans still escaped his throat as Dave suckled him clean, his over sensitised cock causing him near pain.  
  
Dave pulled away with a sticky pop and looked up at the man lying prone and twitching beneath him. He flexed his fingers and grinned at the strangled groan that was ripped from Alan’s throat.  
  
Dave spread his fingers wide, thrusting them into Alan’s now pliant body twice, three times, before removing them completely. He crawled up to hover over Alan’s face, lips a mere inch apart, and waited for Alan’s eyes to flicker open.  
  
The hot breath tickling his lips brought Alan back to semi-awareness. His eyes fluttered open and he blinked at Dave’s proximity. He reached up to pull Dave into a fiery kiss, only to have his wrists pinned firmly above his head.  
  
“Dave...” he breathed, eyes dark with smouldering lust.  
  
“You don’t get to touch Charlie. Not till I say so.”  
  
Dave held his wrists tightly with one hand, the other wandering back down to Alan’s entrance. He circled the puckered skin with a finger, teasing him with the barest penetration. Alan struggled against his hold, but his orgasm had left him weak. His movements subsided when Dave fixed him with a dark look.  
  
“Are you going to behave yourself for me now, Charlie?”  
  
Alan nodded, admitting defeat, and Dave grinned, showing off his pointed teeth.  
  
“Good boy.” He let his finger trail gently over Alan’s cock, barely touching, but still Alan arched up at the touch.   
  
“Now, d’you think you can manage to stay nice and loose for me until the end of the show?” Dave’s finger was back to rubbing against the skin behind his balls.  
  
Alan whimpered loudly.  
  
“Sssh now, you don’t want any more people watching you submit to me do you?”  
  
Dave watched Alan’s eyes flicker over to where Andy, Daryl and Franksy were still standing, staring. He waited for Alan to nod, to ask him not to humiliate him any further in front of their friends.   
  
But he didn’t. Defiant blue eyes turned back to meet Dave’s questioning gaze.  _Interesting,_  Dave thought, _an avenue to be explored further if whatever the hell this is happens again_. And Dave is determined it will. He hadn’t spent the last decade teasing Alan for this to only happen once.  
  
Alan squirmed again, trying to regain Dave’s attention.   
  
“You didn’t answer my question Charlie.”  
  
Alan gasped at the pressure Dave was exerting on his flesh. “Which one?”  
  
“Do you think you keep yourself open until I’m ready to take you?”  
  
Alan moaned at the thought, throwing his head back, and unconsciously clenching his muscles.  
  
“Now, now. That won’t do at all.” Dave frowned down at him for a moment, before glancing around. He didn’t have much time left, Martin was already halfway through the song.   
  
He spotted what he needed lying just out of reach, and leant over Alan to grab it, bringing his chest level with Alan’s mouth as he did. His eyes slid closed in pleasure as Alan’s tongue twirled around his nipple, lapping at the salty sweat covering his skin. He allowed it for a little longer before pulling back, and forcefully pushing Alan’s head back to the floor.  
  
“Enough of that.” Dave raised the end of the microphone to his mouth, sucking it in and wrapping his tongue around it obscenely. Alan licked his lips as he watched Dave wetting it. He could feel eyes on him, knew the others were still watching, watching his surrender.  
  
Dave’s hand disappeared again, the spare mic held tightly in it. Alan closed his eyes in anticipation of feeling it pressing inside him.   
  
“You’re sure you need this Charlie? Sure you can’t control yourself enough to do it alone?”  
  
Alan nodded frantically, and his eyes rolled back as the warm, slick item slid home with little resistance. Dave groaned at the sight of Alan’s body accepting its whole length. He pulled it out, almost fully, and spat onto it, lubricating it further, before ramming it back inside, only the bulbous head remaining outside.  
  
Alan’s screech of pained pleasure was drowned out by the crowd as Martin took his final bow, and turned to climb back up onto his podium. He walked behind the stage set to find Alan still pinned to the floor, writhing against Dave, desperately seeking some kind of friction for his once again raging hard-on.   
  
He froze, meeting Dave’s heated gaze. His eyes flickered down to Alan as he groaned, Dave still thrusting the microphone into his spasming entrance. Martin swallowed heavily, his mouth suddenly very dry.  
  
And then Dave stood up, tugging Alan to unsteady feet and pulling his leather trousers back up his legs, carefully drawing them over his filled arse and snapping the buttons closed. He leant over to whisper into Alan’s ear, brushing his damp fringe from his eyes.  
  
Dave turned to go back on stage, pausing as he reached Martin. “Help him up the steps would you? His knees might be a little weak.”  
  
Martin’s eyes widened. He glanced over at Alan again, watching him panting heavily, body still twitching, struggling to remain upright. “You’re just going to leave him like that?”  
  
“It’s only two songs Mart. If he’s that desperate, he’ll do it.” Dave nudged him towards the shaking musician. “Besides. I’m just giving him what he needs, what he wants.”  
  
He sauntered back on stage without a backward glance.  
  
***  
  
Those final two songs were torture for Alan. He played blindly, entirely from memory, by feeling alone. The microphone was pressing against what felt like every pleasure point his body possessed. Every tiny movement he made when he shifted to press a key, or tap his foot with the beat, sent pinpricks racing up his spine.   
  
It didn’t help that Dave was doing everything in his power to make things even harder for him. He’d established himself and his mic stand directly in front of Alan’s podium, and Alan knew it wouldn’t take much more than a well placed wiggle for Dave to make him come in his trousers without laying a finger on him, or even looking in his direction.  
  
He was barely upright by the time they finished. He half fell down the steps, not caring what the fans would think when he didn’t go to the front of the stage to wave like he usually did. Maybe they’d think he was sick, he hoped they would. And anyway he wasn’t far off it, was he?  
He waited for Dave just offstage, half-hidden in the shadows, though he wasn’t trying to hide. Dave was the last off as usual, but Alan didn’t even see Martin or Fletch as they walked past him to the dressing rooms, the looks in their eyes. Part sympathy, part shock, part raw animal want.  
  
He knew Dave had known he’d be there. He fell into step behind him silently, following him to their shared dressing room, right next door to the one shared by Martin and Fletch. The dressing rooms with the barely-there, paper thin walls.  
  
Alan had Dave shoved up against the wall before the door had even closed behind them. He forced their mouths together, frantically seeking something,  _anything,_  to give him his release. Dave’s mouth opened as he gasped at the force of Alan’s attack. Alan immediately took advantage, tilting his head and burying his tongue deep in the wet heat that was Dave. His fingers grasped Dave’s cheeks painfully hard as he tried to draw him even closer.  
  
Dave’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling them tighter together for a mere second before he roughly wrenched Alan’s head back. Alan gasped in pain, crying out as Dave tucked a foot behind his ankles and knocked him off balance.   
  
He fell heavily to the floor, jolting the microphone still buried in his body. He groaned loudly as the movement pushed it impossibly deeper, jabbing into his flesh excruciatingly. Alan’s eyes were clenched shut, tears streaming from beneath his eyelids.  
  
Dave stood over him, just watching him twist him pain. He straddled Alan’s prone body, holding his arms tight against his sides, preventing him from squirming in any way. Alan cracked open his eyes, his vision blurred, just in time to watch Dave lean towards his face.  
There was barely an inch between them, the heat of Dave’s breath on his face making breathing feel difficult.   
  
“I thought you would have realised by now that you’re not in charge here Charlie.” Dave sneered down at him, spit flecking Alan’s face. “ _I_ am. The sooner you learn that, the sooner this will start to be good for you.”  
  
Dave leaned back slightly. “I’m even willing to indulge your sick, little exhibitionist streak. Who would have thought the great Alan Wilder gets off on being humiliated in front of his friends. The  _friends_ he’s so sure he’s better than.”  
  
Alan tried to deny it, but Dave slapped a hand over his mouth before he could get a word out. “Don’t even  _think_ about disagreeing with me Charlie. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure they can still hear what I’m going to do to you. Even if they can’t see you taking it.”  
  
Dave sat back, pressing down on Alan’s lower body. His weight pushed the microphone even harder into Alan’s prostate. Alan jerked upwards, his toes curling from the shock of pleasure coursing through him. He threw his head backwards, and screamed, not caring who could hear.  _Wanting_ them to hear.  
  
It seemed Dave could almost read his mind, a nasty smile painted on his face as Alan regained his composure. “You’re a sick fuck Charlie. Even Mart’s got nothing on you.”  
  
“You’re one to talk.” Alan spat at him.  
  
Fingering the buttons of Alan’s leather trousers, Dave seemed to ponder that for a moment. “You grabbed me first Charlie, I just gave you what you were too weak to ask for.”  
  
“Fuck you!”  
  
“Yeah, that won’t be happening. And speaking to me in that  _tone_ is not going to get this mic out of your arse.” Dave tapped the protruding end of the offending object. “I might just decide to leave it there. And before you say it, no, you wouldn’t just take it out. You’d leave it there  _because I told you to._ ”  
  
Alan yelped as Dave ripped the trousers from his legs, pulling the sweat-soaked leather off his skin with stinging force. “Wouldn’t you?”  
  
“Yes!” Alan croaked out, spreading his legs wide, praying for Dave to touch him.  
  
“Good boy.” Dave patted his cock like he would a particularly obedient dog. “You can have a treat for that.”  
  
“Please!” Alan was beyond the point of begging now.   
  
Dave smiled, suddenly very gentle as he trailed his fingertips over Alan’s flushed cheek and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “What would you like Charlie?”  
  
“Take me! Use me! Whatever the fuck you want Dave, just please!”  
“I’m not sure you sound like you really want it Charlie.” Dave glanced up at the door as it squeaked open. “What do you think lads? D’you think he sounded like he  _really_ wanted it?”  
  
“Nah, he needs to be a bit more convincing than that.” Martin settled himself against the wall, beer in hand, seeming like he was right at home with the situation. Fletch looked a little less comfortable.  
  
“JUST FUCKING TAKE ME NOW GAHAN! RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!”  
  
“That sounds about right.” Fletch mumbled, red-faced but unable to tear his gaze away from Alan’s sweating, writhing form.  
  
“Yeah, I reckon you’re right Fletch.” Dave grinned over at him, leaning up on his knees to tug his trousers down. Just far enough to release his cock from its confines, no further.  
  
“Let’s see if you’re ready for me, shall we?” He grabbed the wide head of the microphone and yanked it out, throwing it to the other side of the room. He bent down to have a closer look at Alan’s obscenely stretched hole. “Mart? What you think?”  
  
Martin took a gulp of his beer and strolled over. Dave roughly took hold of Alan’s thighs and spread them wider, allowing Martin a clear view. He reached down to trace a finger around the rim of Alan’s entrance, slipping inside just once. “Yeah, feels about right to me.”   
  
“Excellent.” Dave grinned as Alan wriggled uncomfortably beneath him.   
  
Before Alan’s embarrassment threatened to take hold, Dave positioned himself and pushed into him up to the hilt. Alan arched up from the ground, his back bowed perfectly. “Fuck! YES!”  
  
Dave thrust into him again, twisting slightly as he re-entered Alan’s body. Alan’s legs were clamped around his waist, heels pressing firmly into his arse, silently encouraging him to go deeper and harder.  
  
Suddenly his legs were gone, and Dave looked up to see Fletch wrestling them back, holding them spread wide apart and pulled back nearly to Alan’s own shoulders. Dave raised a questioning eyebrow at the redhead, even as he continued thrusting, in and out, in and out.  
Fletch shrugged. “They were in the way, couldn’t see properly.”  
  
“Yeah thats better now. Cheers And.” Mart called over from his position on the couch. His hand had disappeared beneath his shorts, and was clearly stroking himself leisurely, content to enjoy the floorshow on offer.  
  
“ARGH! FUCK DAVE! MORE!”  
  
The noises Alan was making were becoming truly whoreish. He was moaning and swearing, groaning from deep in his chest at every movement Dave made. And the closer he got to orgasm, the more violently he fought against Fletch’s hold.  
  
Dave’s control was slipping by now, but he refused to come before Alan did at least once more. Not that he was going to do anything more to help Alan reach his release. Not yet.  
  
“Uhh Fuck... Dave... Please! Fletch... make him...”  
  
Martin chuckled at Alan’s pleading. “Sorry Al, this is Dave’s show. Ain’t anything Andy or I can do. You know that.”  
  
“Fuuuuuck!”  
  
Dave pistoned his hips into him again and again, the angle created by Fletch’s hold on Alan’s legs creating an even tighter, hotter sensation. He dropped his head to his chest, fighting exhaustion. Alan’s cock was swaying inches from his mouth and the temptation to suck it again nearly overwhelmed him. He settled for flicking his tongue over the slit exactly once, before pulling away as Alan screamed at him and almost kicked Fletch in the face with his flailing limbs.   
  
Martin appeared at his side to help Fletch get him back under control. His shorts had vanished and even in his semi-conscious state, Alan could see his erection jutting up proudly from between his legs. He groaned, wanting it. Fucking wanting all of it. He wanted to be used, and not just by Dave, Though Dave was plenty all on his own.  
  
“Mart... please let me!”  
  
Taking pity on the tear-stained cheeks of his once so proud bandmate, Martin shuffled forwards allowing Alan to wrap his lips around just the head of his member. Alan moaned with such obvious pleasure, Martin couldn’t help but to fall over his chest and suck Alan’s own cock into his mouth as well.   
  
“Fuck Mart! What the hell are you doing?!” Dave exclaimed.  
  
Martin pulled off Alan’s length with a wet pop. “Sorry mate. Couldn’t wait any more.”  
  
“Ugh fine, just hurry it up yeah?”  
  
Nodding, Martin resumed his thrusting into Alan’s willing mouth, moaning at the vibrations caused by Alan’s pleasure-filled whimpers. He lapped delicately at Alan’s cock, not trying to get him off, just keeping him on the edge of orgasm.  
  
It didn’t take long before Martin could feel the pressure building in the base of his stomach. He pulled away from Alan’s mouth, crying out as he pumped his semen all over Alan’s face. Alan coughed and shook his head, attempting to blink away the slimy liquid that was trying to flow up his nostrils and into his eyes. “Oh fuck yes.” He panted quietly, laying his head back.  
  
“Mart?” Fletch groaned. He passed Alan’s legs over to the blonde and shoved his jeans down his thighs, reaching for his own erection and frantically jerked himself off, splattering Alan’s chest and neck with his come. “Ooh thats good. So fucking good.” He slumped to the floor , barely able to prop his head up to watch the rest of the show.  
  
Dave looked down at his prey, covered in other mens semen, and couldn’t help the possessive growl that tore from his throat. He ripped Martin’s hands from Alan’s legs and leant over him, pressing their chests tightly together and kissed him. And didn’t stop, twining his tongue with Alan’s even as he wrapped a hand around his neglected erection, stroking it quickly and firmly.  
  
Alan started to buck beneath him, tangling his fingers in Dave’s hair, determined not to let him go again. Dave swiped his thumb over the tip of Alan’s cock, and twisted his hand just so, and then Alan was coming. Endlessly it seemed.  
  
His muscles clamped down on Dave’s cock like a vice, trapping him. The tight contractions were too much for him to endure, and he finally tumbled over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside Alan’s body.   
  
They lay like that, mouths and bodies still entwined, kissing languidly, until Alan’s muscles relaxed and he stopped twitching. But even then, Alan refused to let go of his grip on Dave’s hair, determined to keep him close for a while longer.  
  
Dave opened his eyes in time to see Martin and Andy closing the door quietly behind them. He let the mask drop, wiping Alan’s face and chest clean and dropping light kisses over his forehead and cheeks. Alan smiled, but kept his eyes closed.  
  
“You alright Charlie?”  
  
He tugged Dave’s head back down to lie on his chest, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in his strong, musky scent.  
  
“Yeah, I’m good.”  
  
“Good.” Dave yawned. “Next time, you can do all the hard work.”  
  
“There’s going to be a next time?”  
  
“There isn’t a fucking chance in hell I’m letting you go after that Charlie. No way.”  
  
He raised his voice slightly. “And you two can forget about it! Charlie’s all mine!”  
  
Alan blinked in confusion, but smiled brilliantly at Dave’s words, and Martin’s disappointed groan through the paper thin walls of the dressing rooms. He chuckled lightly, tightening his grip on Dave, safe in the knowledge that he’d never let him go again.


End file.
